they will sunder the ties
by lowercasegang
Summary: "because they walk too far apart from each other. because shoulders are heavy with unspoken burdens and unnatural grief. because things have changed, you see. the world passes by, offering its own deceptions at every corner, yet wanting to cry for them still." possibly eventual: rob/star. bb/rae.


This little birdy cannot sleep.

No matter how many layers of blankets and pillows had been toppled along Beast Boy's lithe body for heat retention's sake, no matter how tightly-knit his eyelids managed to be in order to further encourage the intense obscurity of his nightfallen room, no matter what prime, happy thoughts he willed to dance 'round his head and bring possibilities of dreams with similiar content keeping him company for the next however many hours, he found himself restless to the point of mental nausea- as dramatic as it sounded.

But, no other description seemed as accurate: quite literally, it _sickened_ his mind _physically_ in the manner which he had tossed and turned, had taken an unnecessary amount of deep breaths and attempted to find solace in the stale air laced with an apparent something rousing him from proper rest. Everything felt foreign and weird and uncomfortable and _it was just too much_. It escalated to the point where he just felt plain _useless_ laying about in a place unable to offer something he had used all his patience to try and attain.

And so he had untangled himself from the heaps of silk, cloth, and padding in favor of tiptoeing to the door, soon commanding it to slide open with a hushed slither of metal running along its track as per usual. Any other time that wasn't remotely around the hours of three-ish in the morning, he probably would have never thought the sound to be so _earsplitting_, would not have froze up in his tracks with a yelp and half-expecting one of his teammates to come storming out as a result of being disturbed for no legitimate reason. But, like. ...Not that he would dare admit aloud, as perhaps it was his own nerves speaking, but he almost wished he _had_ gotten scolded in that moment, feeling a tad envious that the silent Titans Tower was otherwise filled with peaceful, stagnant residents. He was the odd one out.

Maybe some fresh air would do him good. Act like a lullaby-_eventually_.

He steps out into the hallway, limbs stretching this way and that over and over and even another time so that when he finally reaches the roof, it's as if he has convinced his body that he's _supposed_ to be wide awake. Within another minute, Beast Boy has bent his legs slightly and made a small lunge at nothing in particular-not succumbing to gravity as any other should have once re-descending, but instead having taken the brief opportunity to shift into a pigeon, cooing softly in the best way he can to mimic a string of groans otherwise capable in his human form. And he flitters over to the edge of the tower, landing gracefully and tucking his wings back in. His eyes close, but this time he executes the action naturally, having learned his lesson in the failed attempt of forcing immediate sleep just fifteen minutes ago.

This little birdy cannot sleep, so he will watch over the city and do it vicariously. Right now, the vastness and open-endedness of the world around him contrasts the earlier confinements of the building so he doesn't feel quite as lonely anymore, in some odd sense.

Anyway, he could only be selfish for so long, can't possibly find it within himself to actually grow angry at his best friends for grasping something he can't for just tonight… much less an entire city he's sworn to protect.

Let them sleep; this helps.

In a way, he was playing hero all by himself, and such a thought of independence had him tilting his little avian head up in the air with a rush of pride. He could sacrifice rest if it meant everyone else was at ease. Incentive; this breeze was nice, he enjoyed it sifting through his feathers and triggering a temptation to fly off into the dark sky. Nature was empathetic enough to give him this moment of silence and tranquility-

-_but_, to be brutally honest, at the same time the scenario was something he didn't exactly know how to handle accordingly. Ironically enough, the changeling feels as if he is holding a squirming animal in his arms, realizing that it could easily provide comfort and happiness in its existence alone should he just adjust his arms and accompany its presence better, but in the spur of the moment it was just a _hassle_ of _too much power_ and he is flustered and, _ugh_, the situation is just very, very bittersweet.

So much for this being a great decision. He didn't even mean to ruin it so quickly.

"Alright. I know it's the norm for you to get up early to start breakfast…" A distinctive pause, "…erm, not that anyone eats your breakfast, but. Uh. This is a stretch." Cyborg's voice shatters the previously undisturbed lull, overpowers the waves crashing against the shore below, has the baby animal breaking free of his arms and scurrying far, far away; scares Beast Boy enough to have him shifting back into his human form with a tiny shrill and nearly falling off the edge with all of the vulnerability he's feeling.

Nonetheless, he raises his shoulders in a sort-of shrug, surprisingly recovered from that quick moment of shock to rouse his everywhere-thoughts because he knows he has to say _something_. "…Yeah." Is all he finally replies from his seat, and it's only a placeholder to let the half-robot know that he was, in fact, now listening and attentive. "I-I mean, nah. No, s'not for breakfast. Couldn't sleep and I guess it just seemed like a good idea to kill time out here."

"Trouble sleeping?" The way the elder teen reiterates it makes Beast Boy's stomach do a somersault; writhing in guilt because it sounded more stupid than he can really justify. Maybe he had it all wrong. But then Cy tacks on a, "hope you're cool, B," and Beast Boy exhales relief. "Don't need another member feelin' down."

_Oh._ He spoke too soon. He doesn't want to be categorized with "another member"; it scares him, actually. Because it was obvious: Robin was at it again-a little birdy in his own right, yet retaining an entirely different bundle of issues hindering recovery. They were too different for much comparison. While Beast Boy sought a simple change in scenery to make his eyelids heavier, Robin's commands during battle grew harsher and his criticism during their training sessions teetered on the border of intended perfection.

However, as always, nobody knew how to reach out and question his antics, because he took to shutting himself in his room for days at a time, only resurfacing at the call of the city alarm. That's all he prioritized nowadays, when in reality it seemed like he just needed to socialize and freaking be _human_ for once.

That was normal for him, though. Suffice to say the realization was pretty pathetic, but even in this cold state of his, their leader really could be _a lot_ worse off. Experience had made both superheroes present come to learn this.

"But… Cy? I feel like everyone's been weird lately," he admits quietly, scooting over as Cyborg plops down beside him-as if there isn't a wide span of ledge on either side of them to provide more than enough room. "I can't be the only one getting that vibe, right? I'dunno if there's really anything wrong with _me_, but s'kinda like there isn't much of a need to be positive for everyone else. I guess. I'dunno, dude. Not to sound all dramatic-y, but..." He isn't sure where any of this is even coming from, really. Suddenly the prospect of company being current and alive seems to fuel a hidden spark in him, like the sleep-deprivation was really holding back until now, when there was an ear available to listen to his ramblings. He feels like a balloon, deflating as the words spill off his tongue, and can't tell if it's a good thing or not.

Well. That's all they were though, right? Stupid rambles? Unimportant?

He vaguely imagines how the subsequent response to his confession would go with the others. Raven would shake her head at him mid-sentence, eyes flitting back down to the ancient book in her hands, most likely. _"Mm. You're over thinking, Beast Boy. Just take a deep breath and clear your head for a second. Realize that not everything needs nor deserves to be analyzed to the point where it has unattainable depth. This happens. Everyone is experiencing their own form of trouble, but it's all fleeting; give it time to settle_._"_ Her words were always so blunt toward him, but they carried a subtle hint of concern he knew; could pride himself in, if anything at all. And it was that implication that, more often than not, told him she was right, even if he could only decipher bits and pieces of her intricate vocabulary and way of speaking. Still, because emotion was such a speciality in her case, Beast Boy questions if the reassurance helped soothe her own uneasiness just as much.

Starfire would pull him into a bone-crushing hug without the slightest bit of hesitation, the metal of her armbands pressing through even the taut versatility of his morph suit and yet still providing more affection than pain. That's just how she is. _"Oh, certainly dearest friend, please do not plague yourself with such overwhelming negativity!"_ He'd probably even find himself a good ten feet off the ground as she inadvertently floated up, her happiness getting the best of her, _"we are all well, as it should be, and I most certainly prefer you resuming the role of the 'prankster' to contribute laughter! Please, you will cease the worry?"_ Obviously, her reassurance would be easier to detect in its directness, a good balance with her violet-haired counterpart. The problem lay in the fact that she would be in blatant denial; her genuine defense mechanisms prohibiting her from admitting to any sort of trouble. At least to him.

There is a sound of metal scraping against concrete and it makes his sensitive ears twitch and ring, but Beast Boy tries not to squirm too much, knowing Cyborg's only moving as well as he can. Half-lidded eyes watch curiously as he raises his arm and begins to toy with the functions and buttons scattered across the blue platinum finishing, as if a fancy technological program would readily give him the response he knew would fix it all. "It does suck that we all decided to get tense at the same time, but cabin fever will do that to you." Now it's his turn to shrug.

True. They hadn't had much of a real mission in the past week and a half, skip the occasional petty robber, and even then it didn't require the super abilities of five teens spontaneously. More often than not, an accurately-aimed star bolt or spontaneous sight of a charging, roaring, gigantic dinosaur was enough to put the criminal in fetal position long enough for the cops to arrive. He feels ridiculous for craving more villainous activity, but it was the principle of the thing, the adrenaline.

Honestly. That's was it.

Cyborg has to smile to himself at the prolonged silences between every reply exchanged-maybe there _is_ some truth in Beast Boy's insight. Though the kid claimed to be pretty alright enough to isolate himself from the underlying chaos, there had to be _some_ suppression going on, something that truly irked him under the surface and kept his thoughts running too fast and too far. He just wasn't used to projecting them outright like everyone else seemed to be doing. Before he can continue to ponder, a flash of red captures the entirety of his vision for a couple of seconds: _Battery: 50%_ reads in bulky analog letters, with a half-filled block directly underneath the text.

Shit… _not_ _again_.

Had he really forgotten to double check to make sure his charge was successful and running prior to 'falling asleep'? _Again?_ This was the third time in the past four days. The consistent blunder was unlike him; referring back to the outlandishness of the team recently, he could admit to definitely being off protocol in his own way. Plus, it was becoming somewhat of an embarrassment having to excuse himself back to his room to add a bit more power to his system on an hourly basis.

Or maybe the others were too absorbed to notice; absorbed in whatever the hell was going on with themselves.

"Heh, yeah." Beast Boy forces a quiet, raspy laugh with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Withdraw from kicking some bad guy butt, huh? Why are ya up anyway?"

"Eh. Midnight snack." Cyborg quickly switches off the power notification as if afraid it was glaringly obvious. He had until noon, at least.

"Oh. But. It's almost four…"

Cyborg just stares. "_Fourth_ midnight snack, then."

Gloved hands rest along his stomach as Beast Boy nods, not at all fazed by the ridiculous answer and pang of impatience fired his way. "Yeah, I get that. Could probably go for an early pre-breakfast binge myself, actually…"

"Up for making a pizza?" An unexpected grin splits onto Cyborg's features almost immediately upon seeing the other male's eyes light up at the offer. A trivial mending, but it at least fixed things for the time being. He figures that because problems have clung to their shoulders for so long and marred their fists into apparent permanent clenches, reprieve was bound to come when they were least expecting it; just one little nice change to settle things back to the way they were.

Beast Boy's enthusiasm continues to keep Cyborg's own spirits high with hopefulness. "Dude, yeah!" Suddenly the seriousness of their conversation has officially dissipated into the gentle air completely-off into the far away distance to maybe transfer onto someone else in the city. That sucks. "Half tofu, half animal-killer…?!"

"I can dig it-_heeey_, hold up, it's not killing animals if they're already-"

"_Don't even say it, dude!_"

And in the midst of the banter, a large, wispy black crow comes to form before them: wingspan wide and tail swishing in a counteracting rhythm against the wind. It strays from the delicacy of Beast Boy's earlier form by a longshot with the sharp, almost illusionary predominant features-abrupt even as it throws its head back and out emerges a levitating, hooded Raven, her head directed down and cloak fluttering in compensation still.

"There you are. Hi. I was sent to retrieve you two. We have something to assess downtown."

* * *

In Starfire's eyes, humans will forever be remarkable when it comes to expression of feeling.

She had declined Robin's half-suggestion, half-demand that one of the heroines hurry to seek out their two missing members as he himself was furiously typing away at the computer, grids and associating captions popping up everywhere on the screen until it was an ultimate jumble of incoherence. Because of the sudden wake-up call jolting her from the best bout of rest she's received in the past two weeks, the sight was too much to process so soon, so early in the morning.

By the time Raven had muttered something under her breath and phased through the floor, the alien was by the remaining male's side, her arms crossed over her chest as she scrutinized his expression carefully. Better to look at him than risk a migraine when they were on the verge of another confrontation.

Even if it probably wasn't anything dire. As usual.

"You are… still troubled," she begins carefully, her voice still laced with sleep and queries she dare not speak in addition, as it would only be repetition falling on purposeful deaf ears. Nothing he hasn't heard before, or anything important enough to not be shrugged off his shoulder like a pesky fly.

Robin bites his tongue. How is he supposed to answer? Next, his shoulders tense because they're far too hunched already to do further damage that way, eyes narrowing because she can only see his profile with his face directly parallel to the screen. The metal toe of his left boot taps against the carpet while he awaits the exact coordinates of the distress call to load. It was taking too damn long, and he desperately wants to have a synopsis ready by the time Beast Boy and Cyborg were summoned-that was where Raven disappeared off to, right? _Better have been._ He lacked the time to call them up himself when they _should_ have heard the alarm loud and clear.

Seriously. Damn it all.

"I'm fine, Starfire." But he sounds like a broken record and he flinches at the stupid sentence just as she sighs.

"Robin, I do not appreciate the lack of truthfulness I am receiving from you. Friends are not meant to deliver lies to one another, yes?" She nods, answering for both of them. "There is something wrong and it is abnormal. And. It is not just with you, but with all of our friends. Just, _please. I_ do not understand why we are so inclined to do the shutting out when we are all capable of discussing our troubles as a group-"

He interrupts her right then because being scolded, even by her, is the last thing he wants right now. "Calm down. Maybe it's just stress. Exhaustion. Boredom." The latter twisted his lips into a bitter smile-he thought he was the only one who felt like he needed to jump out of his skin when he wasn't working on something, being productive in preparation for future activities whether they actually occurred or not. It was a tad unsettling to think such a trait had befallen everyone else. "I don't know, but whatever it is, you shouldn't worry. We're… _we're all fine_."

There was that word again.

Starfire begins to play with her fingers, already concocting another way to go about approaching the subject without, once more, tossing an entire interrogation at him while they still had the time alone. Why she had thought that Robin of all of them would be the first to open up was beyond her, really. Perhaps it was an optimism stemming from an assumption that in getting through the thickest, toughest wall first, she could sooner start on the less tedious fronts of the others.

But she doesn't know what else to say.

Or, well, truth be told she _does_ have a few miscellaneous considerations, but they all somehow require raising her voice and the high risk of energy being released in the fullest of blasts from her fingertips. Anger, in her instance, was almost always triggered by their foes in battle, so the mere thought that Robin's stubbornness was equivalent in reaction made chills rise like gravel along her skin-'duck bumps', she briefly recalls the term from Beast Boy's explanation.

Robin suddenly stands up straight again, and for a split second the redhead is firmly convinced that he's going to initiate delving more into the conversation. She encourages him with the best hopeful look she can possibly muster. She can feel him meeting her eyes through his mask before raising an arm to point at the large screen: _look_. It is a silent command she follows more out of instinct than willingness.

"Does this place look familiar to you?"

_Oh. _Change of topic; her heart sinks.

But a pair of wary green eyes squint at the map still, more specifically drawn to the area within the blinking neon yellow circle. "It… does not. Wait! My apologies; that is the same construction zone where we apprehended the vehicle thieves… and the obnoxiously loud robbers of the department store… and the runaway prisoners…" She can practically see each and every criminal flashing before her eyes as they were mentioned, all relating back to the vast expansion of dirt and barely-built structures of metal. "Why do they all insist on reconvening there? Is it-"

"A connection?" Cyborg finishes for her as he appears along with Raven and Beast Boy once the doors slide open, approaching the duo and lifting an eyebrow at the screen. "They did all eventually run right there during the chase, huh?"

"And that was always the last stop, too. Conveniently, we always managed to catch them for good at that very spot, like surrender was just inevitable because of the location." Raven presses her lips into a thin line, resisting the urge to reach up and rub any remaining traces of sleep from her face. Though, she does settle for leaning against the arm of the couch by falling back on her heels.

Robin slams a fist into his open palm, both hating and finding solace in the fact that he isn't the only one to catch the odd coincidence. "This guy's making it easy; starting up at the place so there isn't a chase at all. We're going to figure everything out, _even if it takes us the rest of the night._" The Boy Wonder is determined, with curiosity towards the similarities proving to be the best lead they've acquired in what seems like legitimate _ages_.

Silence.

There is no 'we'._ He_ is going to figure everything out even if it takes the remainder of the night. Robin had gone from communicating to them as a team, as it should be, to retreating inward again. He was making unnecessary goals with impossibly high marks and knew just as well as the rest of them that his obsession would creep up and grip at this chance before it even reached a length serious enough to be legitimately concerned about. He's been going stir-crazy with the lack of action lately, and it clearly showed in the way it had taken all of his composure to not show it to anyone these past few days-_weeks?_ He felt more at home when he was in solitude, which probably explained why his back ached from hours upon hours of sitting at his desk, rummaging through police reports and criminal biographies in the hopes that he could fathom an upcoming attack justifying the current inactivity. His hands always needed to be busy, and the irrationality is painfully obvious.

But he also knows it's typical of him, and that was enough to keep suspicion of the overwork at bay… for three out of the four, at least.

"Titans," he begins, shutting down the computer and sprinting past, not even giving the others the decency of facing them as he readied the battle cry, "_go!_"


End file.
